


Beating Like a Hammer

by FuryBeam136



Series: fics fury wrote on their 3ds at like 1am [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Panic Attacks, sorry but thats how it be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 18:41:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20511686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryBeam136/pseuds/FuryBeam136
Summary: He isn't paying enough attention. The perpetrator catches him by surprise. Connor can't even react before his head has hit the ground and error messages swarm his vision.





	Beating Like a Hammer

Connor will admit to himself, going to a crime scene while already on the verge of a full on panic attack was a bad idea. But he's here now. And he has a job to do. So he's going to do it, emotions be damned.

He isn't paying enough attention. The perpetrator catches him by surprise. Connor can't even react before his head has hit the ground and error messages swarm his vision. Hands trace along Connor's chest and he can't do anything about it and his breath hitches. They come to a rest over his thirium pump regulator and he trashes. Not again. He doesn't want this to happen again.

His struggles end only in three more harsh cracks of his head against tje floor, and he can't move, can't respond. Panic has fully set in at this point and Connor can't breathe, can't move. Footsteps tell him the perp is running away. He can't move to chase them.

"H-Hh-Hhn-" he wheezes, but his mouth won't form the lieutenant's name. Connor lies limp and struggles to breathe, his chest aching. His head is pounding, pulsing in time with his thirium pump, far too fast. "Hhnn-Hh-Hhnnk-"

Is Hank even here? It takes Connor longer than he would have liked to remember that no, Hank isn't there. Calling out to him is pointless. But Connor doesn't know who else to call for. His communications are damaged, or maybe it's just that he can't focus enough to try pinging anyone.

He sucks in desperate lungfuls of air and yet he can't _breathe,_ his chest is collapsing, he's caving in on himself and everything beats in a rhythm he can't keep up with.

Footsteps thunder through the area. Connor doesn't say a word, just lies there and wheezes and tries not to fall asleep.

But sleep seems so welcoming, he wants to rest, just a little while...

Hands cradle his body and he blinks unseeingly. His breathing quickens, the worls pulsates faster. And then he feels a body, warmth, wetness on his face. So he's crying. When did that start? Doesn't matter.

He's warm and safe in someone's arms. Connor is tired, so tired. His eyes flutter closed, the world slows. He feels so light, like he might float away.

He drifts away, though his body stays behind, and he chuckles to himself at the thought of gravity.


End file.
